


birds on a wire

by rainingover



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Free Will, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate-identifying mark removal, cosmic irony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingover/pseuds/rainingover
Summary: Ten doesn’t want a soulmate and he won’t accept them if he meets them, so it would be best if he could remove his soulmate mark entirely.That's where Kun comes in.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Comments: 30
Kudos: 215
Collections: Challenge #3 — soulmates





	birds on a wire

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the soulmates theme in a little wonder fest :) reveals 4.12

Ten never wanted a soulmate marking. He's always felt like a free spirit, always imagined a life of spontaneity, so the morning it starts to appear on his forearm, Ten’s heart sinks. He wraps his arm in bandage and feigns injury until he can’t any longer, and then there’s a series of long sleeved shirts and sweatbands, anything to hide it.

He can’t risk anyone knowing it’s there— in fact, he wishes _he_ didn’t know.

Ten is eighteen when he gets his mark, and five years later he still has it hidden, still barely registers it’s there, ignoring its existence. At least, he tries to.

But the longer he lives, the more likely that it’ll be seen by someone who'll make him tell the authorities. And the longer he lives, the more likely he might meet someone with the matching mark. 

He feels his pulse race, a tight pain in his chest, when he thinks about it. Ten doesn’t want a soulmate and he won’t accept them if he meets them, so it would be best if it didn’t have to meet them at all.

He needs to get rid of the mark.

All of this he tells the removal artist when they talk for the first time. 

Ten gets his number from someone on a forum for marked people that he accessed through a VPN, under a fake name, and it takes him a week to get the courage to call the number, even though he’s been wanting a way out of this for five _years_. 

“When can you see me?” Ten asks. 

“I can’t just— I need to know you’re serious.” The artist’s voice is measured. Ten wonders how often he does this for people like him, how many others there are who don’t want what fate has thrust upon them. “This procedure is irreversible. After this, you will no longer have a soulmate mark. Once we do this, when you meet your soulmate there'll be no identical markings, nothing to show you’re matched. Not on your skin.” 

“I know.” Ten Says, “I’m serious. I don’t just want this, I _need_ it.”

The artist is quiet. “It's not cheap,” he warns, after a while. “It’s safe, I keep this place clean, so you don’t have to worry about that. But it’s not cheap and it’s not legal. You need to be fully aware of that.”

“I know. I know all of that. I’ve done my research and that’s why I’m coming to you.” Ten takes a deep breath. “I have the money saved up, so… When can you book me in, Kun?”

Kun books him in for the eighteenth of November. Says, “I'll text you the address of the studio, but you must memorise it and delete the messages. If you’re followed…”

“I won’t be,” Ten promises. “I wouldn’t compromise your businesses. I’ll pay the deposit today.”

“Thank you. I will also delete any information you provide me with, for your security and safety.” The line crackles. “And, Ten, if you change your mind? I can always return your deposit.”

“I’ll see you on the eighteenth,” Ten says, and then he counts down the days. 

Ten’s best friend is the only person who knows Ten has a mark at all and Ten didn’t even tell Taeyong for over a year. 

Not everyone has a soulmate marking, not anymore. 

They’ve become more and more rare over the last hundred years, each generation seeing less people who develop them. Long gone are the stories of entire towns full of matched soulmates, living in marital harmony. 

Now, most people are free to make choices the universe hasn’t made for them. Without marks, they are free to be who they want, _with_ who they want to be with. They can be with more than one person, or no people, and to Ten that is the ultimate way of living. 

The authorities hate it: a world full of people with choices, is a world they’re less able to administer control over. So, those who do develop a mark are encouraged to pair up with their fated one as fast as possible, and anyone with a mark is tracked and registered, monitored and closely watched to ensure they fulfill their destiny. Ten doesn’t intend to be on the database and he doesn’t intend to dedicate himself to someone he doesn’t even know. 

There is a photo in his mother’s house of Ten’s grandparents, holding hands and smiling at each other fondly. They were soulmates, together for sixty three years, both of their left hands covered in the winding vines and spirals that had appeared on the day they met, until the day his grandfather died, skin wrinkled and paper-thin, and then they faded. 

His grandfather’s mark had been on the palm of his left hand, and his grandmother’s had been on her right, and the day that they’d met— at a tea dance at the town hall— their designs had awoken, glowing as they changed colour, until the matching marking was a bright blue colour on both of his grandparents’ skin.

Ten remembers being fascinated by the photos as a child, but when was old enough to understand the meaning behind the electric blue stars and lines on his grandparents hands, he had wondered if it meant something less joyful and more sinister.

He studied their expressions in his mom's old photographs, wondering if they were really happy or whether they just _thought_ they were, whether they’d simply assumed their roles in their fated relationship and dedicated sixty years to someone just because it was expected of them. 

Ten doesn’t want to be watched, he doesn’t want to be forced to sign onto the database and spend all of his energy looking for The One, who could turn out to be _anyone_ . He doesn’t want to be forced and he doesn’t want to be covered with a mark that says, _this isn't my choice._

He panics at the thought of meeting his soulmate, of the way his mark will awaken, the spiralling, intricate pattern weaving in on itself and blooming into a brightly coloured symbol of togetherness. 

Ten wants to be _free_ , and removing his mark, however dangerous, illicit or expensive it may be, is the only way to gain his freedom, and he’s anticipating having it done more than he’s anticipated anything his whole life. 

Ten is so glad that he found Kun’s number that it almost has him believing in fate. 

Ten has always been wary of meeting new people. He avoids nightclubs, bars, anywhere filled with new people. He travels by car or cab instead of bus. He takes his college classes online. 

Only Taeyong knows why, and even he can’t empathise. He couldn't; he’s unmarked, untethered. He is free to kiss who he wants to, to fuck a random stranger and not risk knowing the universe wants them to be together forever. 

He can date and break up and he isn’t _special_ in that side-show way Ten feels like he is.

Ten doesn’t want to be special, he just wants to _live_ , and after November 18th, he gets to.

Ten messages Kun to confirm the appointment. Kun calls him back. “You should have deleted my details by now,” he says when Ten answers. “You only had until last weekend to cancel and reclaim your deposit.”

“I’m sorry. I know that, I just wanted to make sure… I’m scared I’ll turn up and this won’t be real.” He feels ridiculous, but it’s true. “I needed to hear your voice.”

“While I’m flattered you wanted to speak to me, I can assure you that this is all real.” Ten can tell that Kun is smiling from his voice. It’s warmth, it’s reassurance. Ten smiles too. “Please will you delete our correspondence now? It’s for both of our safety.”

“I know. Yes.” Ten glances down at his arm, covered by a bandage and a long sleeve t-shirt. He can almost _feel_ the mark, like it’s a phantom pain, but it’s not painful, just tingling a little. Ten wonders if the mark knows he plans to make it disappear, and for a second he feels almost sad. “Thank you.” 

“I’ll see you next week. Don’t panic too much in the meantime. Okay?” Kun sounds like he genuinely cares about his prospective client. 

“Okay. I’m looking forward to meeting you,” Ten admits. He laughs. “And I can’t say that for many new people.” 

Kun laughs too. “Well, that’s why I do this,” he says. “To give people the chance to live however they want to. To give them a choice.”

“You’re a godsend, you know?” Ten says. He thinks, _I’d choose you_. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” The line is silent for a moment. “Goodnight, Ten,” he says.

“Goodnight.”

Ten sleeps better that night than he has in ages. 

November 18th can’t come quickly enough. 

The studio is tucked away in a side-street on the quiet side of town and it’s early morning when Ten gets there, as instructed. He guesses Kun avoids normal business hours for these jobs to keep everyone safe, and he appreciates that. 

Ten has to wait outside until he’s buzzed in, and then he climbs two flights of stairs to the studio, which is through a plain black door, no name, no number. It makes him nervous, but he’s excited too, like this is the start of something amazing.

He thinks about how much his world is going to open up— all the people he can meet, kiss, love and even hate, he will be able to do it all with anyone he likes without worrying fate will force them together. That must be why he feels so happy.

When Kun greets him, Ten finds himself smiling. Kun’s exactly how Ten expected him to be, though Ten can’t put his finger on how exactly.

“There’s still time to change your mind,” Kun tells him as Ten sits down on the cot set up next to the machine that Kun leads him to. He has kind eyes, _handsome_ eyes. He smiles gently and Ten can’t help but mirror this. 

“No, I’m ready.” Ten rolls up his sleeve to reveal the mark he’s spent years avoiding. It’s pretty, he can’t deny that. “Goodbye fate, hello freedom.”

Kun smiles, meeting Ten’s eyes properly. Ten trusts him intimately, he _knows_ he can trust him. He feels hopeful, like the stars are aligning and things are about to work out for good, and his mark seems to be pulsating, sensitive, but he ignores it. He's ready for this.

“It will sting,” Kun explains, putting on gloves as he talks. “But if it hurts too much just shout up and I will stop right away.”

Ten nods and Kun sets the laser above Ten’s arms. It’s still tingling, but he still ignores it. Or, he tries to, but maybe he flinches a little because Kun asks, “Are you okay?”

Ten nods. “It’s…” He can’t explain. He just wants Kun to begin. “I’m fine.”

Kun looks at him oddly, but he nods once and then pulls his goggles down over his eyes and begins, the laser trained on the intricate design no bigger than his palm. Ten closes his eyes and hopes he’s imagining the tingling as it continues, but then it happens— then he feels it, like a blood rush but overwhelmingly _good,_ and when he opens his eyes, the swirls that make up his design are glowing and—he can’t deny it—turning a dark, crimson red.

Kun hesitates, stops the laser, and Ten knows instantly that Kun is feeling it too. 

“I don’t know— I don’t know why this is—" Ten starts, but the words get stuck in his throat. It's panic, now. Rising.

Kun whispers, “Mine is on my chest.”

“What?"

“My mark. I didn’t realise— yours looks familiar but I didn’t realise it was the same.” He puts his hand over his chest. Ten can tell he’s feeling what Ten is, that his mark is changing colour underneath his shirt. “This wasn’t—fuck, the universe is cruel.”

“Turn the laser back on.” Ten says. His voice catches in his throat. “We never wanted this, we don’t— shouldn’t it be our choice?”

Kun looks so conflicted and Ten feels for him _so_ much, so so much. “It should be our choice,” he agrees. “Our free will.”

“Then remove it, _please_.” He begs Kun to understand. If he’s his soulmate he _has_ to, surely. 

“I don’t even know if I can remove a matched mark, they've always been people who've not met their soulmate yet.” Kun looks concerned. “Its so overwhelming, all of this, I don’t know…”

Ten leans over and unbuttons the collar of Kun’s shirt with shaking fingers to reveal the the crimson glow of an identical mark to his staring back at him. He chokes back a sob, looks up at Kun. “But you’ll try?” He pleads. 

Kun looks at him with pain in his expression. Ten is biting back tears, or maybe they're flowing now, he doesn't care.

Kun takes a breath.

“I’ll try,” Kun promises. The air is thick with apprehension, and something else. Ten cries silent tears. “For you, I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” Ten smiles, tears reach his mouth, the salty taste on his lips as he sobs. 

Kun reaches out and wipes a tear away with his thumb. His hand lingers on Ten’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he says, pulling his hand back. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Don’t— _don’t_.” Ten breathes out. He gets it, he feels it too. Like he wants to kiss Kun, wants to be _loved_ by him. He can’t help it, it’s what the universe has decided, and it _scares_ him. 

“Please,” he says, to himself, to Kun, to the universe. “This isn’t fair.”

Kun turns the machine back on. 

The throb of the newly bloomed mark is nothing compared to the sting of the removal lasers, but Ten can barely feel anything.

This is the cruelest of ironies, he thinks, as he watches Kun work. Kun will do this because he loves him, even if he didn’t ask to. He will remove the mark that matches them and Ten is so grateful, so grateful that he loves him for it. Or he loves him because he was born to, but he’s grateful all the same. He isn’t sure now— does he love Kun or should he love him? Is any of this his choice or did fate send him to this backstreet studio knowing he’d meet his soulmate here?

It’s fucked up. Ten bites down on the inside of his cheek and wishes he could turn back time and stay away, but that’s the thing— he’s never heard a story of someone not meeting their soulmate at all, and removing the mark was only ever going to keep his secret from others. Ten will always know, and now he will know _who_. 

The lasers work over his skin, a stinging nettle tingle on his skin. Kun murmurs words of encouragement through shaky breaths, following the trail of floral patterns and swirls. The skin underneath is pink and swollen, but the mark is faded to almost clear. It’s _working_. Kun’s own mark, still there, still bright and glowing, is there on his chest, branding them as destined. 

Ten wants to kiss the mark, put his hand over it and feel the warmth, feel Kun’s heartbeat beneath his flesh, but he ignores the urge and waits to be free.

When Kun turns off the lasers, Ten breathes shakily, and looks down at his right arm. The mark is gone now— only the faintest of stubborn lines remaining. “You need to keep it dry,” Kun tells him as he removes the gloves and goggles. He’s so handsome, Ten thinks, sadly. “Over the next few weeks. It will continue to fade and no one ever need know you had it.”

Ten reaches out, giving in to the urge to trace the pattern on Kun’s chest. “Will you cover yours?” He asks. 

“I don’t know. Probably.” Kun looks at Ten with such intensity it hurts. It physically _hurts_. “I didn’t expect to feel anything. I didn’t think it would feel so right. I didn’t want it to.”

“Me neither.” Ten’s heart aches. “You know, if I could love you, I would. If I didn’t hate this so much, I… I know you’d be the perfect partner. I know we’d love each other very much. I can feel it, I _know_ it’s true.”

“Yeah.” Kun smiles sadly. “Yeah, I think we’d be good together, if things were different. If it didn’t feel like a prison sentence, it would feel like bliss.”

“We’d be perfect,” Ten agrees. He knows it, now. He never thought he could ever, ever, understand his grandparents, but then fate trumps everything, apparently. Go figure. 

Kun nods. “But…” 

“But it wouldn’t be our free will.” Ten stands up. He lets Kun cover his arm in a thin layer of gauze bandage. 

“No, it wouldn’t.” Kun looks at him. “And we don’t deserve that.”

“Thank you.” Ten presses a kiss to the corner of Kun’s mouth, and resists the urge to lean in and kiss him again and again. 

Kun smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Enjoy being free," he says. "And go before you get me crying again."

Ten laughs. He feels drained, exhausted by the emotions. He feels like maybe he’s made a terrible mistake. Maybe he should stay, he thinks, but he doesn't. He _can't_. "Should I still delete your number?" Ten asks. "I know I should have done so already, but... It didn't feel right."

Kun looks at him intently. Says, "It's your choice."

"So it is." Ten smiles. "Take care, my love."

And then he leaves.


End file.
